Brach. On pain of death, let no man name death to me: It is a word infinitely terrible. Withdraw into our cabinet. [Exeunt all but Francisco and Flamineo. Flam. To see what solitariness is about dying princes! as heretofore they have unpeopled towns, divorced friends, and made great houses unhospitable, so now, O justice! where are their flatterers now? flatterers are but the shadows of princes' bodies; the least thick cloud makes them invisible. Fran. There 's great moan made for him. Flam. 'Faith, for some few hours salt-water will run most plentifully in every office o' th' court; but, believe it, most of them do weep over their stepmothers' graves. Fran. How mean you? Flam. Why, they dissemble; as some men do that live without compass o' th' verge. Fran. Come, you have thrived well under him. Flam. 'Faith, like a wolf in a woman's breast; I have been fed with poultry: but for money, understand me, I had as good a will to cozen him as e'er an officer of them all; but I had not cunning enough to do it. Fran. What didst thou think of him? 'faith, speak freely. Flam. He was a kind of statesman, that would sooner have reckoned how many cannon-bullets he had discharged against a town, to count his expense that way, than think how many of his valiant and deserving subjects he lost before it. Fran. Oh, speak well of the duke! Flam. I have done. [Enter Lodovico. Wilt hear some of my court-wisdom? To reprehend princes is dangerous; and to over-commend some of them is palpable lying. Fran. How is it with the duke? Lodo. Most deadly ill. He 's fallen into a strange distraction: He talks of battles and monopolies, Levying of taxes; and from that descends To the most brain-sick language. His mind fastens On twenty several objects, which confound Deep sense with folly. Such a fearful end May teach some men that bear too lofty crest, Though they live happiest yet they die not best. He hath conferr'd the whole state of the dukedom Upon your sister, till the prince arrive At mature age. Flam. There 's some good luck in that yet. Fran. See, here he comes. [Enter Brachiano, presented in a bed, Vittoria and others. There 's death in 's face already. Vit. Oh, my good lord! Brach. Away, you have abus'd me: [These speeches are several kinds of distractions, and in the action should appear so. You have convey'd coin forth our territories, Bought and sold offices, oppress'd the poor, And I ne'er dreamt on 't. Make up your accounts, I 'll now be mine own steward. Flam. Sir, have patience. Brach. Indeed, I am to blame: For did you ever hear the dusky raven Chide blackness? or was 't ever known the devil Rail'd against cloven creatures? Vit. Oh, my lord! Brach. Let me have some quails to supper.